Raw
by JrOeKnEeRe
Summary: Tasting him was no longer the worst part. Knowing what would happen & watching it happen, she couldn't be enough / Touching her could be in his control but keeping her, he'd have to fight harder / They've been through too much / Peter x OC x Roman / Season 2 / Contains sexual content and graphic displays.
1. Beauty Strange

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**Raw**

Hemlock Grove

Roman x OC x Peter

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_Beauty Strange_

_._

"I need to know if it can be done."

"Please," still keeping her in his gaze no less, he began to slide his rings off. She watched him carefully. "Don't."

He set his necklace aside and reached for the hem of his shirt. She stopped him. "Let go, V."

"We can do something else for the money," she knew it was decided though. "You're not- This could become distrugere, Peter."

But there it was. The bright piercing blue seemed to shadow his feral consumption. "If I can't turn when those guys are here," he moved her grip beneath his. "We're fucked anyway."

Gently, though held back, he pushed her and removed his shirt. She stared into his pale chest as her arms crossed and her teeth ground against the side of her cheek, biting off pieces of it from habit. What can she do? He made his way over to the record player and started it.

"Step back," he kicked off his shoes and reached for her to move.

She kept her stance strong as the idea cleared. He won't like this.

"Let me go to him," maybe if she herself spoke with Roman, alone.

"I already tried."

"_You _tried, let me."

"No, get back."

What if- It was late yes, but she could find where the new house was. The keys were still in the tow truck. She could be quick.

He was faster.

"Damn it V, no!" He caught her before she could reach the door. She moved as fast as she could too. Her back smacked hard to his front as he stopped her, nearly took them both down. The turn was surging with grim beckoning. With just one hand, he locked her wrists over her collarbone and seemed to paralyze.

"Just let me try. If it doesn't work-"

He swung her around and backed her into the door. "He doesn't know you're here with me."

She struggled briefly but once she heard him- "What?" her throat cracked tight and fevered. They stared. "You let him think that?"

"He's a pompous little shit and didn't give me the chance to explain. Even if I could, I wouldn't. Not now." She cringed. He was hurting her. It seemed to wake him. If only slightly, he broke the course and released her. He won't apologize, he hasn't returned and can't yet.

She needed to push it more, softer though. "He was alone Peter, we were all he had left."

"Leave it, V. Roman can go to hell. You're not going."

The moment ended. She would let him have her again because that did it. Reasoning with him was near impossible now. He moved her to the couch and walked to the center of the room without saying more. She could feel the tremors beneath his skin as he did so. It was happening.

She was his audience and needed to be numb for it. He's doing this. Not just once for the dealers but twice to ensure its obedience. And she had to sit through it and watch.

The record started again.

_If you need almost every need then you don't love me. _He slicked his hair back and breathed in. She's seen this before, with Roman. He stood next to her. Both watching as Peter's naked form was ripped and marred into his black wolf. When it was done, after he fed on his human flesh, and ran off into the woods, she had Roman there to hold her up. She slowly slid down to the floor with the couch behind her. Cracks erupted throughout his neck as he rolled it out. _Set me free. _He cried out as both his shoulders lurched up with a crunching pop. V gathered her knees close to her body and tried to stay still. _Beauty strange and a twinkling isle that don't make-_ His hands twisted in their gruesome dance, the spine upsurged against his flesh, he jerked forward, nearly falling on her. But crawled back on all fours as the black fur stretched his skin apart. The long snout began its emergence. _You have no claim on the soul of mine._ She wanted to look away and cover her ears. That sound of breaking bones and the sight of Peter's face. This wasn't like before. It was too close and too personal.

But there it came.

The bloodied hand emerged from inside the wolf's mouth and reached for her. Its thick coated gore oozed down to her jeans as it did so. She trembled as he caressed her face, his thumb sliding across her bottom lip, leaving a thick trail. He even parted her mouth and briefly came in contact with her tongue. _Give me desire from your cherry lips._ She could taste it raw, the warmth and carnage. Don't move, she told herself, stay still. She shut her eyes. It's almost over.

The hand might have pulled back but she moved to cover her head despite like a child would hide. It shouldn't be effecting her like this. She peered down to her lap and saw that his blood had pooled over in the most private way. _If you don't love me, set me free. _

"V," his voice was almost unrecognizable, clawed and grated. He knelt next to her, trying to loosen her arms. "M'sorry." She lifted her head and met his stare. When had he turned back? The blue faded pale and was his own again. He looked over her face, cringing slightly. "V, I didn't mean- I don't know why I did that-"

She wasn't going to lose her stomach. Not this time. Instead, she swallowed it down and decided against such weakness. This could be the only time. They were both tired but he was the most, exhausted now. She could do it, go to Roman's. When he sees her though, she might not be prepared, how could she even explain? But it should be tonight. She'll see Roman, he might lose it, but she could try. Peter has to have a few days to recuperate before the meeting. If she could convince Roman to help-

"Come here," but Peter gathered her up and held her as though she might suddenly push away. "I'm sorry. You didn't need to be here for it," he leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. His breath smelled of wet fur, burnt flesh and whiskey. "It just had to- I just- Needed you close enough."

It's not going to happen. She's not leaving now. He leaned back and looked her over again. She wasn't exactly taking his words to mind. If she was more with it, she'd understand what he said and should probably be worried. That's what he's looking for. The moment.

But she could only say one thing in response. "You need to rest."

What else did he expect? For her to forget everything? To just fall into his arms and claim that her need of him was just as strong? He took her in for a moment. Her shapely almond gaze bore into him above her more prominent dark circles. It's been a tough year. And with Lynda in jail, the money problems, returning to Hemlock, their past, it was enough to drive her away. But she stayed.

"Come on, I'll go with you," his scrutiny was starting to make her uneasy. They both stood, her supporting him more so.

"Wait V," he held her back from leading. "You still have- You should get cleaned up first."

She forgot, her face must be a mess. Not to mention the blood on her jeans. He must have seen that as well, where it dried. She was too out of it to care. "Okay, let me just help you to bed."

But he wouldn't let her move. "That's taking the stairs. I'll just sleep down here. Go on."

"Are you sure?" he was already crippling over and laying down.

"Yea, take a shower. You smell like me."

She smiled and nodded.

He watched her walk away and listened for the shower pipes to creak on upstairs. Once they did, he reached for his cell and dialed the number.

"Hey, it's Rumancek. Meet me in the parking lot tomorrow night, your product will be ready," he hung up and painfully re-positioned his sore body against the couch. When they're here, he'd want V out of the house. He'll have to think of something. He clutched the edge of the couch as his rib cage throbbed continuously. That's good, it'll be easier for the emergence since it's already torn. Keep telling yourself that, he shut his eyes and sighed. His teeth clenched as his mind drifted over her. The way she looked as he started to turn. He remembered that but faintly could he control anything after. The thick haze kept his perception numb. Truthfully though, deep down, he wanted to touch her. He shouldn't have, but there was little control or mind to stop himself.

The constant flow of water set him at ease. Not completely, it was hard knowing she was up there, showering, while he was stuck here. He wouldn't do anything tonight. But just knowing and not being able to at least look?

But he had to be even more careful or he could just as easily lose her. Especially now that Roman- No, he didn't have to worry about that. All he had to do was keep her away from him.

If she ever saw him again, if Roman knew she was alive, losing her would be indefinite.

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_Feed or Deny?_


	2. Flux

**_._**

**_2_**

**_Flux_**

The blood had soaked through his shirt lined with each rib cage. It's never happened before. His skin has always healed after, at least, from what V knew. She knelt beside him as he snored quietly on the couch. After her shower, she wanted to make sure he was okay and she finds him bleeding. It almost made her shake him. But she hesitated and reasoned with herself. Her hands were warm, he may not notice if she lifts it up a little. Even if it does wake him, she could put peroxide on then.

Gently, she eased his shirt high enough and winced. It looked like six razor blades had etched straight in rows. She lightly ran her fingers over the scabbed texture. It must be hard for him to even move. Will it get infected if she waits until morning? The sting would definitely wake him if she does it. She should wait. He needs this. Her palm flattened as her gaze briefly roamed over his abdomen, ending on the soft chest hair reaching down his pelvis.

"You're sort of naked."

She jumped and coiled back. Peter was staring at her, his thick brow raised.

"What?" her voice squeaked. What- Wait, she was. They haven't unpacked yet, her clothes were buried, things were still jumbled, and she was more worried about him, so she came down wearing only her towel.

He chuckled quietly and smoothed his hair back.

"I wanted to check on you," she's blushing now. "I didn't mean for you to wake up."

Good thing she wrapped the towel tight otherwise it would have come undone by now. Her hand unknowingly moved to the twist and squeezed. He watched her. Was it her exhaustion or were his eyes shining? The blue almost looked silver.

"It's okay," he smiled. "What were you doing exactly?"

He's teasing her. "Checking on you," she already said that. "The- your ribs are- were bleeding. I think we should put medicine on them. So it doesn't get infected."

"I see," he nodded as if agreeing, still intently staring at her. She nodded with him awkwardly and took that as a leave. But he quickly stopped her from getting up. The sudden grab made him flinch.

"Peter," she scolded him softly and helped him ease back. "You can't move like that yet."

He sucked in air through his teeth. "Guess that leaves out _moving_ for awhile then."

"Really?"

"What?"

Damn it, she blushed again. He meant something else, his dimples were flaring.

"Can I get the medicine now please?"

He sighed. "No," if she does, the turn will hurt even more tomorrow. Any healing should be delayed until then. At least that's what he's convinced himself. In truth, he couldn't stand her touching him, looking like that. He hid his struggle well enough with humor but was barely keeping it together.

"It'll only sting for a minute, I'll be quick."

"No, V."

She frowned. "Don't be stubborn."

"Don't be pushy," she wasn't but he couldn't think of another comeback. "Really V, it's fine. I'll put some on myself tomorrow if it gets bad."

He won't.

V stared longer until he looked away. Usually she was the one to break away first. His gaze could be a bit much sometimes, with those eyes especially. He's probably just tired. She should find her clothes and go to sleep.

"Alright, try to remember to do it though okay?" the towel reached past her knees. For that, she was thankful. "I'm going to bed," because if it was any shorter, this night would have gotten even more exceptional. She stood fast, close to him and almost revealed herself if she hadn't backed away.

He did nothing, didn't even acknowledge her. They were both tired. But as she moved for the stairs and caught him looking, his wandering gaze betrayed them both. When their eyes met, the humor faded entirely and became a sudden time lapse.

Neither looked away. V stood there, her foot just on the first step, and Peter, even though it must have really hurt, sprung from the couch and was before her in seconds. He snaked his arm around her waist while the other cradled the side of her neck. They were leveled and seemed to fall into each other like magnets. His voice was heavily masked and edged as he demanded it. "Drop the towel."

She wasn't breathing.

The hand that warmed her neck lowered to the middle of her chest, clutched down on the twist and pulled.

"Peter," she breathed his name as the towel fell without shame.

He leaned into her side, letting his hands roam for what his gaze hungered. She gasped quietly as he licked her neck and tongued its pulsing vein. His palm outlined her curved waist, pressuring her spine. It severed her senses even more as he cupped her hip firmly. She lost track of his pattern as her mind drifted into a hazed oblivion, not of pleasure but of an alarming shift. He was still holding her yet she seemed to sway blindly, like a drug's influence. It scared her. So much as to jerk away from him to suddenly find Roman pulling her back. His towering form stood over hers in place of Peter's with a hunched possession. She froze in fear as he returned the same fix Peter had her. Though he revealed himself with the familiar tenderness only few could summon from him. Those he cared for deeply. She stared into its rendering comfort still very confused and frightened. "It won't be long," the words daunted through his succulent lips. "You can't be kept from me. He'll understand," her bare skin trembled lightly as he took her in, drowning under his piercing gaze. "Enough will be done."

She tried to speak but it came out submerged and echoed. He silenced her nonetheless as he brushed her upper lip with his thumb, pushing it side to side, moving to the bottom. "V," he whispered, spreading her now moist lips with this seductive stroke. He said something else, detached, as though another person was speaking in sync. His mouth moved again but was blocked once more.

Light poured over her and filled the room painfully. "Come on pretty girl, up we get." V squinted densely upon realizing. On the bed she lay with the blankets wrapped strangely tight, still naked and suffering from an aching crown. Roman was just holding her, that was just happening- "Don't make me jump," how much of it had been a dream?

She jumped.

V bounced her head against the backboard and cried out, still waking.

"Fairly warned," Destiny crawled over her bundled form and cuddled with the pillows. "How does Peter do it? He must have some patience, it takes you forever to wake up. Then again, it's almost four and you're both still asleep. Doesn't matter, I'm under strict orders to get you out of this dump for a safe but fun girl's night venture yes?"

"Des," V mumbled and turned to face her.

"Yes?" she smiled playfully. Her dark curly hair seemed even more wild today. They looked each other over. "You're naked aren't you?" V nodded fazed, rubbing her eyes but when she opened them again, Destiny was almost glaring at her.

V gathered the blankets close and sat up. "What?" Destiny followed.

"The dream, it was serious, you need to tell me."

"I don't-"

"I can see what it's doing to you, it was strong."

She could still feel the warmth of his arms. There was no transition from dream to reality. It moved fast and felt too real. Her lips were even wet, shining. It hasn't hit her yet but when she sat up, that abrupt. She, felt, sick. "Des," she only managed to get her name out before bending over the side of the bed and heaving.

Destiny moved for her as if she might fall. "Peter!" But he was already in the doorway and rushed to grab her.

"What happened?" he caught her and placed her against him like a doll.

"We were just talking-" she's talking more but V was soon overcome by Peter's scent as he had her close again, bringing back the feel of him then the sudden change of Roman. She hadn't lost her stomach yet. It was only empty heaving. But the same vile pang swept over her in waves. She leaned heavily into Peter with her head against the side of his. The scruff of his beard scratched her cheek. A few of his long strands brushed against her nose, making the scent worst. _The towel dropping to her feet, leaving her naked for his control. The feel of his tongue stroking her neck. _"Maybe she should stay here."

"No," Peter stood and re-positioned her back on the bed, hovering close. "It's just a bad hangover. We drank a lot last night," he lied. "Some air will do her good." When she finds out about the dealing, it's best to wait. V groaned softly, he moved damp hair away from her forehead. She was sweating but not hot and seemed to either lose consciousness or randomly fell asleep. "Help me get her to the bathroom."

"She's naked."

"Then don't look," he gathered her limp body into his arms. His cousin helped him lift her, dragging the blankets off to make it easier, and cradled her head gently into his shoulder. She tried to steady them. "I got her, thanks D. Can you make breakfast? Just toast for her stomach." He didn't wait for an answer as he carried her the rest of the way.

She watched them for a moment, how carefully he guarded her, before heading to the kitchen.

Somehow Peter managed to fit them both through the bathroom door, inside the shower, and turned the water on without getting out himself. The slow gentle stream felt cold at first, which seemed to wake her slightly. She looked around cautiously then became more aware of the situation and fell onto Peter's concern. "You're okay," he held her between his legs, the water was streaming down on them. She could breathe easier.

"You carried me?" she barely got that out.

"Done it before," he readjusted the temperature and leaned his head back against the tile wall looking down on her. He hasn't given himself the chance to really see her, for her dignity and his own decency. But was still very mindful of it.

"You shouldn't have," she smoothed her right brow in weariness. Peter smirked. "I'm not a lightweight."

"I'll live. Besides I'm stronger than I was which is saying a lot so get off your high horse," his smirk turned to a gentle smile.

"Your clothes are getting wet," she's not quite there yet.

"So," and he knew it.

But as the water got warmer and her skin became more flushed and her consciousness grew clearer, V looked herself over and snapped out of it faster than Peter was ready for. She jerked upright, tempting to cover herself with his own shielding which seemed to defeat the purpose.

"It's only weird if you make it weird," he was still smiling as he reached over her for the folded towel across the door handle. With one arm, she covered her chest, which was squished between her hiding and his stomach. With the other, she snatched the towel from him. He leaned back, letting her squirm frantically to wrap around herself before shutting the water off. Her lower half had already been covered by his leg, draped over like a bridge. But she struggled in awe.

Eventually she was once again nearly clothed and another nauseous wave swept over her from the hasty effort. He took over from there, grabbing her firmly and leaning her back down to his original hold. "You did that to yourself," V glanced at him, squinting through the ache. His hair was wet, eyes were bright, he looked better than last night.

Last night.

"Sorry," what? For what?

He frowned softly. "Just let me take care of you for a second alright? I'll get you some clothes."

Then it was a dream. She must have kept walking up the stairs to bed, didn't look back, he didn't get up from the couch and come to her like that. The turn affected her much worst than she thought. She could even hear that song playing in the back of her mind. And Roman hadn't- He wasn't with her.

Peter maneuvered himself around her carefully and stood, shaking off some of the water. "Hey," she looked up at him. "Don't be such a girl," he tried to stay calm like it was no big deal. Being that close got to him though. He would have stayed with her, held her until she asked him to leave or until it moved somewhere. But he needed to leave. Destiny was coming back anyway. Toast didn't take long.

"She is a girl. You should know, like _really _know," V heard her shuffle past him in the hall. They exchanged more words but she soon popped her head into the bathroom and scurried over. "Look at you," she carefully reached for her and helped her stand. "Now I know how he gets you up in the morning."

"Pretty much," V leaned on her excessively and just let her do it all then. Her thoughts went numb, the dream was pushed back, for now. She needed to just go blank. Destiny led her back into the room where Peter laid out her clothes, must have found them somewhere. She handed her a bra, panties, helped her change, brought her downstairs and practically fed her two pieces of toast while Peter added peanut butter to his third.

"Andreas is on his way," Destiny poured them each a glass of apple juice and moved the plates to the sink. "He promised to be our most gorgeous escort and take us anywhere we want. So, V, where shall this night take us?"

Oh no, she forgot. "I think I should stay here."

"Not an option. You need to get out," Peter sat next to her and gulped down the rest of the juice.

"So do you," maybe he needed time to himself though. He might need a break from her, feels like a lot's happened.

"Yea but Des thinks I hound you too much, with that exact pun I might add. So humor her and go have some fun tonight. I'll be here when you get back."

"Yea, humor me V! Please?"

Neither will back down on this. "Okay."

Destiny squealed and hugged her neck. "I thank you from the deepest part of my gypsy heart."

"Oh please," Peter separated them and helped V stand. "Go see if Andreas is here, I think I just saw his car." Destiny left them without hesitation.

V tilted her head at him. "Did you do the peroxide?" knowing what such an action does. They were slowly returning back to themselves. It might take her more time but she needed to keep balance.

"'Course," he tilted his head in the same direction.

"Liar," she gently bumped her fist on his chest. "Soon okay?"

He caught her hand and kept it there. "I dearly promise to do so before you return to me tonight," he stretched her fingers out above his heart. The day's events were gratefully fading, for the time being.

"He's here, come on V!" Destiny grabbed their coats and left the door open. But last night's would take even more time. When they're together, she's going to bring the dream up. She'll have to answer.

"You promised," V wiggled her hand free from under his and pointed as she stepped back.

"I do," he nodded.

She rolled her eyes and nearly tripped over the door's arch. She could hear Peter chuckling as she closed the door but was too embarrassed to look. The car honked twice. Andreas waved casually with Destiny leaning over his lap to honk again. V slowed her pace despite it in case she might get dizzy again. Once she got in and buckled the seat belt, they both turned to her. "Where to my love?"

They weren't going to like this. They'll say no. But they insisted she leave. And as she was in and out of consciousness throughout the night, awakening, shower, even at breakfast, one thought had grown into something more than unavoidable. And she had to at least try.

"Roman's."

She was alive. She wanted him to know.

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_Perhaps more? Perhaps no more?_


	3. Starvation

_._

**3**

**Starvation**

They said no.

She didn't expect this.

"Don't let her kill you," V wrapped his gray scarf around her neck. When had it gotten so cold?

"She's not who I'm worried about," Andreas even handed over his gloves. "I'll try to give you time but no guarantees. It's nearly dark now. I can handle my girl but Peter, that boy has it bad for you. There'll be no stopping him," she slipped her fingers through the leather. "I'll stall them and won't say where you actually are. But they'll find out eventually darling so be weary of those consequences. When I pick Des back up, you'll have even less time," she nodded as he grabbed her arm. "Look, I don't know your history with this guy, hell I don't even know you that well-"

"It's okay, I have to do this myself."

He closed the car door and rolled the window down. "She's going to chastise me for all eternity."

V smiled, shaking her head. "Just go already. I'll see you soon."

He took one last look at her, somewhat unsure, but drove away nonetheless.

She was alone now. The house was just around the corner, behind all those trees. The lights were on and would lead the way. The sun's going down fast. It must not even be six, seven? It's January though, the earlier it gets, the darker it is in season. Stop, start walking. She did, nearly tripping over a pine cone. When Andreas parked in front of that diner and Destiny was the first to get out and he sped off just as V was about to follow, she thought he was kidnapping her. He was right, they didn't know each other. But for him to do this, for her? It made V appreciate his affair with Destiny even more. They were good together and V liked him right away. They could be friends. Despite the danger he's going to face because of her. And now, a stick. This might not be the best time, she's not exactly capable. A close redwood caught her fall. When will she get the chance though? Especially after this little stunt, Peter will keep her closer than usual. Even if that gives her chills, just not for this reason.

Before she realized, she stood on the front patio. Leaves and dirt were probably dangling from her hair but the tinted glass gave no reflection.

Knock. Ring the bell. You wanted to do this.

But she couldn't will herself.

If he answers the door, sees her, has her within actual reach, she might not be able to handle him. He deserves to know though. The knob turned, it's unlocked.

Don't, call Andreas, go home to Peter.

There was as much hope the moment V decided to cross Hemlock's border once more. When she heard the scream, the curdling nature of it, all was forgotten. She stumbled through the door, stifled to a halt and feigned in the glistening cataract of blood. There Roman held a young girl against him, her neck exposed and torn. Bits of skin dangled from his mouth while he bathed as though under a glorious sanctum of wine. Her mouth gorged open, no scream came. The only sound was that of warm liquid pouring from her to him as winged nectar.

V couldn't stop it.

She screamed but cried out his name instead. Roman jerked to a vicious tilt. His hollow gaze flashed alive in a savage break, as a beast would snap when interrupted from its feeding. He took her in, his grip on the girl faltering. She dropped. His trust in its certainty fazed. She landed heavy on the hard floor, limp. He stood there staring, coated in famine.

Seven months. The last he saw her, she was near death, in his arms. But the severity of it all couldn't stand for what he must have gone through after. When Peter lifted her from him as both were close to fading. When he could do nothing as they left him there, alone. He stepped over the girl's form and drifted to her in that way, V froze. He snatched her up into his body. She braced herself, he squeezed her shoulders with a powerful strain. The garish fluids masked over his contingent denial and brought out the monstrosity in sheer.

He was just there, feeding on the girl's throat, decapitating her with his teeth. She's dying. He's digesting her. "No," V could barely hear him. "Real. You're not-" He yielded her again. This time, faltering her knees, lowering them both to the ground and hovering in an obscene sever. He moved on top her, mumbling without coherency.

V did nothing. Her parts refused to perform any and all movement against. Her mind had little to offer. Her lips were sealed in dry rifts. She could only watch him as he studied her. As he quieted, peering down at her, she could see he wasn't there. But V's senses came together all at once in a fixed ruin.

She gasped sharply. He has her. His hand had delved into her jeans, through her underwear, between her folds, his cold finger roughly penetrated. He gathered her slick heat around and along as though it were frosting above liquid batter. The refusal to interrupt kept her from flinching within notice. Neither would she register the ministrations entirely for he pulled out just as fast and placed the coated digit in his mouth. He tongued it thoroughly until the taste was certain. Roman had digressed her beyond intentions. She watched him, muted from disruption, but as his chest suddenly heaved in a broad snap, nearly did she lose her silence. Ceasing anything further, he crawled off her and dragged himself away. She couldn't see where until lifting her frigid neck up, the rest of her languid form slowly rising to find him beneath the stairs. Rather, a dark creature writhing in its inertial state after such devour.

The softest gurgling flaw vibrated horrifically in reminder. V's elbow cracked painfully as she erected herself further. Caked blonde locks came into sight as her vision blurred slightly in vertigo. There the girl still spread in her puddled remains. And there it came. V didn't think. Her hands and knees slid frantically across the slippery wood as her body re-acquainted itself with movement. Nearly did she fall into the girl but settled before, her legs now covered.

Fizzling blood chortled above her mouth. A death rattle. V held out her hands next to the girl's head and neck but couldn't bring herself to move closer or even console. But she knew, her pulse was weakening. They caught each other's gaze. Before V could try again, she was being pulled away and lifted from the ground. Roman tightened his grip on her so powerful that she cried out. And at such time, the girl also cried in sync. Neither were known but the devastation and reality of it seemed to tear V to pieces. She even reached for her as Roman ascended the stairs. But he jerked her back in place and quickly entered the master room.

Kicking the door shut with an apparent slam, V flinched and cried again, in surprise, as he threw her on the bed right before turning on his heel towards the bathroom. She instinctively reached for him as he suddenly collapsed several times before making it inside the door and closing it firm.

He's not here. The Roman she knew was far from her and he may not return in time. This is how it happens. She knew he would lose it but to come to him, during that. As he was feeding on an innocent girl as youthful as she, he killed her. V watched the finality of her life as his teeth bore into its slaughter. And now, he's discarded her down there while carrying another to his chambers. Does he know it's her? She could still feel her wet folds parting in pang against his invasion. It still burned. Never had she felt anything like that before. Nothing as immediate and violent. But she hasn't let that in. It would be too much. She needed to stay calm.

Roman fell into the sink, gripping the counter in brace. He leaned heavily into it. The mirror lied. That wasn't him staring back. He blinked hard. His reflection revealed the truth. It was the hunger. He couldn't keep it contained. Miranda was convenient and the famine keeled over in throbbing need. He looked again. But a nauseating void griped his skull. A sudden vision rooted him immobile. Flashes of the church appeared, of the vargulf standing over V, clawing at her chest, deeper and deeper. It wanted her to suffer, purposefully tormenting as a personal kill. The girl, Christina, meant its brutality with hatred. Roman heard himself scream for her. He was losing her, she was dying. Another flash came of Shelly lifting the white wolf off V, of her saving them, of Roman cradling V's mauled form as his sister vanished. Then Peter, reborn with the strength to claim, carrying V away from him. The vision ended. That day had haunted him each night, overtook every free thought. She was dead. He peered back from the mirror and quickly punched the faucet on. After splashing his face and swiping away the blood, he opened the bathroom door and waded against the arch. There she was, exactly where he left her. This was happening.

And as he moved closer, the thought of killing Miranda was forgotten, nothing else concerned him.

"V?" he breathed, stepping in side to the bed.

She kept his stare, faltering though as his intensified. She meant to confirm his sanity, that she was truly here with him. But she could only nod and say nothing. His very presence seemed to dominate reason. And as he reached for her the way he used to, she remembered and her mouth finally obeyed.

"We left you."

"He took you," the youthful break in his voice overtook his rage.

"I stayed with him," was she trying to take the blame? She couldn't have made the choice then and was dead to him after as Peter had her. What was she trying to say? V closed her eyes and shook her head. She couldn't say or do what was needed.

He lifted her chin to him, with the same finger that dug inside her earlier. The scent of her eluded them both. He was going to say it. The pale green of his sharp gaze bore harder than she could handle. He'll make it worst. She's here, as close as he could have ever wanted. They watched each other, he kept her on him. Then he spoke. "When you were in my arms," he swallowed. This would take more. "I felt you leaving me, before Peter came for you, it was happening. There was going to be nothing left. I knew if you were taken- It could have me- This thing I've-" He grabbed her. "You took me with you that day. You ended me and- All that was left is what I've become."

.

.

.

_Given but lengthy waits. Worth it?_


End file.
